


Nutcracker

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Series: 25 days of ficmas [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ballet, Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Platonic Relationships, teen reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 18:37:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16838173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: As part of his recovery, Bucky becomes a mentor to a local teenager. On the day of their grand ballet performance in the Nutcracker, Bucky realises they are injured.Day 3 of the 25 Days of Ficmas





	Nutcracker

Bucky was a huge fan of the ballet.

He truly admired the hard work and dedication that the dancers put in to their performances and the musicians were some of the most talented he had ever heard. The hours of training, rehearsing a single move in front of a mirror over and over again until it was absolutely perfect. Until the movements became instinctual. The dancers moved with grace and elegance but also a power and determination that never failed to amaze him.

He’d never expected to be so interested, though. It was something that had caught him completely by surprise. As part of his recovery, his therapist had suggested getting involved with the community and doing something good for other people. It had taken time but soon enough, with the help of the wonderful Pepper Potts (who had a brilliant nose for sifting through hard luck cases and finding worthy causes for Stark Industries to support) they had settled on a small community centre in Brooklyn, not far from where he and Steve had lived 70 years ago.

Although he didn’t understand why, hardly seeing himself as a good role model, Bucky was immediately placed into a kind of mentoring scheme and, within a few days, partnered with you. An ordinary teenager, swamped with school work, barely getting by. Nothing special. No powers. No crazy super intellect. Just a normal girl.

It had been awkward to start. Conversations were stilted, if they happened at all. You weren’t quite sure what to say to each other. What did a semi stable 100 year old man and a teenage girl really have to talk about? But, one afternoon, you called him out of the blue and asked for his help. Your mum couldn’t meet you after your lesson and you didn’t want to walk back through the dark streets on your own. Without a moment’s hesitation, Bucky had agreed and an hour later found himself sat at the back of your ballet class, watching with wonder.

From that day on, he took you to and from every ballet lesson and then you’d grab food on the way back to your apartment. Suddenly those stiff and awkward conversations flowed freely and Tuesday evenings became the best day of the week. You taught Bucky all about ballet and he helped you with your homework whenever he could. You both complained about your insane friends and it wasn’t long before you considered each other friends too.

The weeks went by until finally the big performance came around. It was a huge deal. You’d been chosen out of dozens of girls to be the sugar plum fairy as with a semi-professional company. The community centre had fundraised and donated to the ballet company for the best costumes and lighting. All of your family and friends would be there. Bucky had even managed to convince a few of the Avengers to come along too (although it hadn’t exactly been hard, as they were all keen to meet the young girl that he spoke so fondly of).

Knowing that you were backstage, Bucky smiled at the guy working security (he always made it a priority to get to know the people working as security or ushers, just in case) and thanked the burly man when he pointed him in the direction of your dressing room. He knocked lightly on the door, waiting for your call before he stepped inside.

“How you feeling, doll?” he asked, smiling at the huge collection of good luck cards and gifts on your dressing table. Adding his own bouquet of flowers to the pile, Bucky leant against the wall and asked, “Excited? Nervous?”

You briefly met his gaze in the reflection of the mirror before returning to picking at your nails, scratching the nail polish out of your cuticles. Shifting uncomfortably on your chair, you said, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He frowned at the shortness of your answer. Normally, it was all but impossible to stop you from talking, especially about something as important to you as ballet. You’d been excited about this for months. Something wasn’t right. It seemed strange to Bucky that now that it was finally here you clammed up on him but he put it down to nerves.

“You’re gonna be great, sugar. Everyone out there wants you to succeed. I’ve seen how hard you’ve worked and practised for this. You’ll blow them all away.”

“Thanks, Bucky. I need to get into costume now so, uh… You know.”

As you walked him to the door, he realised what it was that was bothering him. He’d seen a flash of a tubular bandage beneath your sweatpants when he’d first entered but it hadn’t clicked. Now, though, with the way you were trying so hard not to limp, it was obvious. He spun on his heels and rested his hands on your shoulders, stopping you in your tracks. “You’re hurt, Y/N.”

“It’s nothing,” you said, clearly forcing a smile on to your face. You bottom lip was trembling and the longer you avoided his gaze the more your eyes were watering. Barely more than a whisper, almost a prayer, as if saying the words would make them true, you said again, “I’m fine.”

Wrapping his arms around you, Bucky pulled you against his chest and rubbed your back as you began to sob. Ignoring your protests, he swept you up in his arms and carried you back to your chair, where he oh so carefully set you down. On his knees in front of you, falling back on years of field first aid, he gently checked over your ankle. Even without removing the support grip, he knew that it was more than just a little sprain. “What happened, doll?”

“I was running late for my english class and slipped on the stairs.”

“You’re telling me you’ve been walking around on this since Tuesday?” Bucky exclaimed. He could only imagine the pain you must have been feeling, must be feeling. If the tears rolling down your cheeks were anything to go by, it must be excruciating. Trying to wind back his concern so not to scare you, he said gently, “Y/N, you know you can’t dance on this.”

“I have to!”

Bucky shook his head, straightening up so that you were on the same level. He took your hands in his and squeezed them gently. “If you dance on this, you might damage it permanently. There will be other shows, doll.”

“It’s not that,” you said, furiously wiping the tears from your eyes. It broke Bucky’s heart to see you so upset, knowing that there was absolutely nothing he could do to help you. “So many people have helped me get here and I’ll be letting them down if I don’t go through with it. All the hard work and effort that they put in for me… The time, the money… They are expecting me to do this for the name of the community…”

“Y/N,” Bucky said, more firmly now. Since gentle reasoning clearly wasn’t working, he decided now was the time for a little tough love. “You and your safety are more important than any of that. I know you love dancing but you’ve got to put your health first. There is no point pushing yourself for one show if it means it will be your last. Please, doll. Sit this one out. No one is going to think less of you.”

“They’ll be so disappointed…”

“Maybe. But they’d be even more disappointed if you went out there and gave a subpar performance. You would be disappointed if you went out there and didn’t do the best you could. You are capable of excellence, Y/N, but you should never push yourself to reach it at the cost of your mind or body.”

You let out a deep sigh and Bucky knew he had gotten through to you. He handed you one of the cute fluffy bears from your dressing table and smiled when your first reaction was to scratch its little head and pull it tight against your chest.

Bucky gave you soft smile, one you mirrored right back to him, and said, “I’ll go find the director and let her know you won’t be dancing tonight then, yeah?”

“Thank you, Bucky.”

“Don’t you worry about it. You focus on getting some rest. And hey, look on the bright side: you can come watch the show with me and the others.”

Your eyes widened at that offer and for a terrible moment Bucky thought he’d said something to upset you. But then you practically started bouncing with excitement and he knew otherwise. “The Avengers are here? They came to see me?”

“Course they did, doll. They all wanna meet you.”

“Me? Really? Are you sure? I’m nothing special. Why would they want to meet me?”

“Because you are special, Y/N. To me. To everyone that knows you. Come on. Let’s find you a wheelchair and I’ll take you to our box. I just wanna apologise before, though. They can be… enthusiastic around new people. If they say anything - and I mean anything - that makes you uncomfortable, let me know and I’ll deal with it.”

“You know you can’t push them from the balcony, right?”

Bucky frowned at that, but perked up considerably when you held up your ballet slippers and suggested strangling them with the laces instead. He’d always known there was a reason he liked you. And when the Avengers met you, just as he’d predicted, they loved you too.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think!


End file.
